When Scotland is Scotland
by Liett
Summary: What happens when you put a fuming England and an indifferent Scotland in a messy room? Chaos ensues, of course. (Based on a YouTube video by opperationpecan.)


**Based on "Scotland Being Scotland" by opperationpecan. **

**XxXxXxX**

It was the end of a very long week.

Long weeks always left England at the end of his rope.

The Englishman trudged up the front steps of his house sporting the shortest of short tempers, hoping to just relax for the rest of the evening.

He should have known better.

His first hint should have been the fact that the door wouldn't open all the way.

Bracing a shoulder against the painted wood, England forced the door open, and stepped into what looked like a tornado's chosen path of travel.

The place was an absolute mess.

And sitting right in the middle of it?

Ireland, Wales, and Scotland.

Ireland and Wales bolted as soon as they saw England, leaving their trash behind.

Scotland, who sat indifferently on a kitchen chair with his feet on the table, casually opened a newspaper. He glanced, slightly bemused, at his little brother, who stood in the doorway, looking thoroughly horrified as he surveyed the mess.

"What happened in here?" he said.

Scotland, already having lost interest and gone back to his newspaper, shrugged absent-mindedly.

England began muttering angrily, perhaps to himself, as he frantically tried to clean up the offending garbage. "I come home from meetings all week," he fumed, "and I find the mess to be ridiculous. Who cleans up around here besides me? Nobody!"

He glanced at Scotland, who was completely ignoring him, and noticed, perhaps for the first time, that the redhead's feet were on the kitchen table.

"Get your feet off!" England snapped, pushing them back to the floor. The moment he turned his back, Scotland kicked a chair out from under the table and put his feet on it instead. He went back to his newspaper.

England was still angrily ranting to himself. "What's this doing here?!" he fumed, picking an empty beer bottle up from a shelf on the wooden bookcase. "This is supposed to be a bookshelf!"

The teakettle whistled.

Gritting his teeth in annoyance, England stormed into the kitchen. After removing the kettle from the stove, he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He knew he was probably being a little harsh.

Since no one came rushing in to get the kettle, he decided to make some tea; hopefully that would help him relax a bit.

However, as he emerged from the kitchen, his temper flared back up when he saw Scotland with his dirty boots on one of the dining room chairs.

"Get your feet OFF the cushions!" England cried, quite exasperated. When Scotland didn't react, England marched over, slammed the tea down, and shoved Scotland's feet from the chair. He then attempted to brush the dirt off the cushion with his hand before sliding it back under the table.

"Honestly, what is it that you do around here?" he sighed as he returned to the mess.

Scotland was a little annoyed now as well. He found himself uncomfortable, with nothing to put his feet on. England's current mood was apparently nothing to sneeze at. He half expected England to march back over and pull the chair out from under him-

Wait.

Smiling a little to himself, Scotland picked up the teapot that England had left on the table. It was full of steaming hot liquid. Perfect.

Extending the arm that held the teapot, Scotland waited to be sure his brother was watching before turning the porcelain container completely upside down, dumping its contents onto the hardwood floor.

England's mouth fell open. Narrowing his already flaming green eyes, he spat, "You'll pay for that," before storming back into the kitchen.

Rag in hand, the blonde returned to the dining room. He got down on his hands and knees in front of Scotland's chair, scrubbing frantically at the hardwood while muttering to himself: "What a waste of tea... and to think I'm the younger brother..."

Scotland watched him for a few moments. Then, as soon as England was in front of his chair, he put his feet on the Englishman's back, crossed his legs, leaned back in his chair, and returned to his newspaper.

"Um... excuse me?!" England snapped from the floor.

"You took my stool, mate," Scotland said in a monotone voice.

England groaned.

**XxXxXxXxX**

**(A/n) Another fanfiction based on a fantastic video by opperationpecan! **

**I do plan on trying to finish chapter three of SAS tomorrow, so never fear! **

**Anyway, please go watch the video, "Scotland Being Scotland," which can be found here: h-t-t-p-s : / / m . youtube dot com / watch ?v= MQxNirwC77s (Be sure to edit this link appropriately.)**

**Hope you enjoyed! I'll probably be writing a lot more oneshots based on their videos in the future. **

**Until next time!**

**Yours heroically, **

**Liett**


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